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#[ ... no i actually have a lot to say. the toilet smells like one you'd find in a gas station. ]
iniziare · 1 year
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Shady’s back, tell a friend— god, it feels good to type on a regular keyboard again, behind, guess what, behind the third-biggest babe in my life, my desktop computer. I don’t know what it says about me that I put so much value in a stationary computer, does it make me more of a boomer? I sure hope so. Anyway, she is installed and while we’re still waiting on internet, my phone is being used as the common hotspot in the apartment and the signal is pretty strong, so apart from work preparations, maybe it’ll also allow me to set up some things because I’ve started a Game of Thrones rewatch; I miss my books. But also, this boomer misses dodging bullets here (and writing too, I guess).
Aka, hi, we’re in our apartment— I have almost forgotten to cook/eat every day for 4 days now, because I’ve been single-handedly at war with one really greasy kitchen. Two more cabinets to go, folks, then I will know some kind of peace (translation: save me, my back is absolutely killing me, and I’ve been, mostly, suffering in silence).
#[ out of character. ] whatever. i don't really care. i'm just gonna sit this one out.#[ aka; this apartment was inhabited by i believe two guys. ]#[ you can tell. ]#[ that's all i'll say. ]#[ ... no i actually have a lot to say. the toilet smells like one you'd find in a gas station. ]#[ and we're unsure what happened there-- so we're gonna nuke it with products. we haven't yet decided what products. ]#[ the entire apartment feels like one that has been decently heavily smoked in but doesn't smell like it. ]#[ or not anymore any way. ]#[ it's that residue-- it's similar to caked on dust feeling greasy? except it's on places where caked on dust just... doesn't stay. ]#[ also the kitchen was gross. it looked fine on the surface but holy shit i've had to do a lot of cleaning. ]#[ when i say almost non-stop-- i mean i don't eat until like late afternoon and i call it dinner. ]#[ i just can't focus on anything other than this damn kitchen with all of its wonderful storage that i'll happily use once it's all cLEAN. ]#[ guys pls send help. i need help-- i can't do this alone even though i've been doing it alone. ]#[ /breathes. ]#[ i will sleep and finish it tomorrow. then i gotta get a steam cleaner for these floors and tackle those with it and a vacuum. ]#[ i love the apartment a lot but /holy shit. ]#[ my back. :( ]#[ and i'm waiting on my bedding so i can properly sleep-- in a bed... i will sleep for 24 hours. ]#[ hi; welcome to me returning but also-- welcome to my burnout and also my cleaning woes. ]
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Harry Gets Food Poisoning While at Your House
This prompt was requested by this ask and I just put my own take on it. Hope everyone enjoys.
Things to help you understand this story better:
(Boyfriend-Girlfriend/Dating for 2 years/Harry stays over at your place a lot/You ate something different than Harry/Dunkirk Harry era)
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(wish that photo was really Harry but unfortunately its not. dead give away by the hand :( )
Harry and yourself decided to order Chinese take-out for a at-home date night. You both scoffed down the tasty food while sitting on the sofa watching romantic comedies. Once you finished eating, you and Harry cuddled together on the sofa under a warm fluffy blanket. You laying on your back and Harry laying on his tummy between your legs, with his head resting on your boobs. While focusing on the film, you run your small fingers in his brown curls and he relaxes into your touch, letting out content sighs.
About an hour after eating, Harry becomes restless on top of you. Before, he was laying peacefully, but now he's squirming every few seconds. "You alright babe?" you question down to Harry on your chest.
"Mhmm my stomachs starting to hurt." he replies truthfully. He's unsure the cause but his stomach is swirling and his heart rate is picking up at the mere thought of having to be sick. Especially the thought of being sick at his girlfriends house during the at-home date you had planed. He doesn't want to ruin it by getting sick.
"Oh m'sorry. Do you think it was the Chinese food?" you speak remorsefully.
"I don't know but I don't want to be sick," Harry says with a voice crack indicating he's actually getting upset, "and ruin our date night." When he finishes his sentence, he starts softly sobbing into your chest.
"Hey, hey, Harry," you say sternly but still in your caring voice, "you would not be ruining our date night. You can't help if your feel sick. Do you maybe want to go sit in the bathroom so you're closer to the toilet?"
Harry just nods his head and you help him stand up from his position on your chest and onto his barley stable feet. Then you guide him to your downstairs hall bathroom because its the closest bathroom to your living room. You walk Harry up to the toilet and help him kneel down in front and you squat down behind him. "I feel so sick y/n!" Harry moans out through shallow breaths.
"It's gonna be okay Harry. I'm right here. It's okay to be sick. I won't be mad." you reassure your boyfriend so he knows he doesn't have to keep in his sick for your sake and so he'll feel better. Because you know undoubtedly he has food poisoning from the Chinese food he ate earlier and if he keeps the toxins in his body, he will just feel sicker and sicker.
Harry's back arches over the toilet as he lets out a sickly sounding gag. You grimace at the noise but know you must keep it together to take care of him and comfort him. He's breathing rather heavy with his mouth hanging open and saliva dripping out into the water. "Shhh babe, just relax and throw up. Your tummy will feel so much better after." you gently coo in his ear. You have one hand rubbing circles on his muscular back and one hand pushing back his curly bangs that's falling in his face. He lets out a harsh dry heave and it follows with a long stream of vomit exiting out his mouth and splattering in the toilet water. You have to close your eyes to not be sick yourself.
In-between spells of emptying his stomach, Harry mutters, "You can leave me in here alone. Don't want you seeing me like this." He is absolutely crazy to think you'd leave him in such a vulnerable state. You love Harry and him being sick doesn't stray you away from being by his side in such a situation.
"Harry, I am not leaving you. I don't care if you're sick. You've seen me sick many times and took care of me each of those times. So I'm taking care of you." you calmly say back. Honestly, Harry feels so sick that he doesn't try and argue with you. If he's being truthful, he's actually thankful you're with him, comforting him, because he hates being sick alone. He may not admit that out loud but its true. Something else that happens when Harry's sick, alone or with someone there with him, he gets emotional. An uncontrollable emotion that follows during or after getting sick. One thing he hates most about this situation right now is looking weak in front of you. He's always so strong and being this vulnerable in your eyes suck.
What Harry doesn't know is that you like this side of him. Not the sick version of course but the weak side. It shows he isn't perfect and you honestly don't think you could even date someone who puts themselves out as such.
Harry forcefully throws up a few more times until he's just dry heaving with nothing more to expel. "I think you're done babe." you tell Harry softly as he's dry heaving with no results.
Harry just shakes his head weakly and replies, "I still feel sick though. My stomach hurts so bad." Tears are rolling down his face and his hands that grip the sides of the toilet seat are slightly shaking.
"I know but I think the toilet is making you feel more sick." You reach over him to flush his puke down the toilet so he doesn't have to look at it a minute longer. Harry sits up straight and turns his head back slowly to look at you. This is the first time you have seen his face clearly since he's gotten sick tonight and the first thing you notice is how red his eyes are, probably from all the gagging and dry heaving, and you see the wetness of his cheeks due to crying. Along with the bit of vomit that his on the corner of his pink lips and line of sweat on his forehead. You feel horrible for him. You'd hate to be in his position but almost wish the roles were reversed, just to take his discomfort away. That's how much you love him. You'd do just about anything for Harry. Even if that means take his food poisoning away from him and have it yourself.
You reach for some toilet paper and rip a piece off to wipe his mouth clean. While wiping his vomit covered mouth, Harry just sits and stares at you. He feels so little right now. Almost like he's a small child who's just been sick and their mum is cleaning them up. Even though Harry is embarrassed he got sick on what was supposed to be a lovely date night where you both ate non contaminated food, watched film after film, trying not to fall asleep, or maybe had some romantic intimacy at the end of the night, he actually feels happy right now. Not happy his stomach is upset but happy he got lucky enough to have a caring girlfriend that is by his side during his ugliest moments. He thinks he may have just fell more in love with you. Seeing how compassionate you are towards him when he's sick.
When you finish wiping around his mouth and a little bit of nasty drainage from his nose, Harry becomes emotional again. Like stated previously, he always gets quite emotional when he's sick but that's not the only cause of his emotions right now. He is also crying because he's thinking about how much he truly loves you and how he never thought he'd find someone with your level of compassion.
You throw away the soiled tissue and pull Harry forward so you can embrace him in a warm hug. You don't really understand why he's crying so much. Is it because his stomach is still hurting or he's embarrassed? "Why are you crying Harry?" you question him then continue, "It's alright. I'll give you medicine to make you feel better. Don't worry about that."
While rubbing both hands up and down his sweaty back, Harry says through soft sobs, "I just love you so much. How did I get so lucky. I've had partners in the past to push me away when I was sick and you didn't. You stayed and took care of me." He lifts his head so he can view your face when he mutters out the rest. "I'm gonna marry you one day you know. Want to call you my wife. Want to have lots of babies with you. Be with you till I'm a hundred. Promise I do."
His words have brought tears to your eyes. Knowing how grateful Harry is that you're taking care of him when he's sick means so much. You didn't think twice before helping him when he said he felt sick, so it must be the true love you feel for this man crying in your hold. With a shaky smile and watery eyes, you look at him in his glossy green eyes and say, "I would kiss you right now but I have a feeling your breath smells like puke so I'll pass. Love you so much Harry and of course I took care of you. I love you and that's what you do for the people you love. Take care of them in their weakest moments."
You hold him for a few more minutes on the bathroom floor until your bum gets sore from the hard tiles. You help Harry stand to his feet and walk him to your bedroom located up the stairs of your house. Then you help him slide into bed and tell him you'll be right back with some medicine and a glass of water.
A few minutes later, you come back with the upset stomach tablets and water for Harry to take and ease his turning tummy. Once he's taken the medicine, you go grab your mini trash bin in your bathroom and place it beside the bed incase he feels like he's gonna throw up again. Then you turn all the lights off and crawl under the warm blankets with your boyfriend. Without hesitation, Harry scoots over and places his head on your chest. He's past the point of being scared to look weak. He just wants comfort and the one thing that brings him the most is you. The love of his life. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight." Harry whispers with a hoarse voice.
"You don't need to thank me babe. I was glad to be there for you. I know you don't like getting sick and I was happy to at least make the experience a little bit better. Now go to sleep and if you feel sick again, the bin is on the floor beside the bed for you. Also don't be afraid to wake me up if you feel nauseous. I want to be there to comfort you." you reply back in a whispered tone. You kiss the top of his messy curls and Harry relaxes into your hold on him. Feeling safe and secure in your loving arms. Then you both fall fast asleep.
Thankfully Harry didn't get sick anymore through-out the night and the medicine you gave him seemed to have worked. The next day he was just exhausted form exerting so much energy being sick the day before but other than that, his stomach felt calm. You made him homemade chicken soup and cuddled him in bed, watching his favorite movies all day. Loving every second you get to spend with Harry before he has to leave and go on his world tour in a months time.
MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST
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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years
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RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 1 "Pilot" & Ep 2 "Hell Week"(Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)
Something really bad happened.
Did you just get your period all over yourself?
This isn't my blood.
Who told you you could have a baby here tonight?
I'm sure I can walk if I can just get some Gatorade.
I don't care if you can walk.
How are we supposed to get you to the front door without everyone seeing you all gross and postpartum?
No one wants to see that at a party.
This is super embarrassing.
I didn't even know I was pregnant.
You guys, they're playing "Waterfalls."
Is that a baby? Amazing.
I am not missing "Waterfalls" for this. "Waterfalls" is my jam.
Give the baby some mojito to quiet it down.
How do you know she's dead?
These are my minions. I don't know their names. I don't want to know their names.
I have a colonic at 10
Life is a class system.
Oh, still a lot of puke to scrub.
Yeah, you have an amazing skill at telling people what they need to hear.
I'm sorry. Did I ask you to pull down my panties and blow a compliment up my butt?
I hate sororities, and I hate you.
First of all, I'm not a lesbian.
You see, out in the real world, people just don't talk that way to other people. It's not normal.
Well, that sure sounds suspicious.
No one forced that goat to get as drunk as it got.
Historically, short people are sneaky backstabbers, like Napoleon or Paul Shaffer.
I could actually handle that you're built like a Thai ladyboy, but what I can't stand is that you think you're my heir apparent.
Don't you want me to spray-tan you?
I would honestly rather not have you around.
The police still can't figure out who filled that tank with hydrochloric acid.
It's good enough for me, and the D.A., who, last I heard, considers the case closed.
What is that skirt?
Your organization might want to find a lawyer.
I'm a pretty smart cookie.
I would not get personal with me, sweetheart.
I don't fight fair.
I am sentimental.
Look, girls are vicious, okay?
I don't have any of my own memories.
Just like we planned. Three-second silent hug, and then you leave.
Ooh, somebody call CSI, because there was a murder scene in that bathroom.
Someone puked in the sink and I'm pretty sure I saw an actual ringworm climbing up the wall. I'm not afraid of anything, but that bathroom scared the crap out of me.
This is gonna be a year of infinite possibilities.
Hold this. It's too heavy.
You didn't knock!
Look at them. They're the dregs of society.
Each one of these gashes is worse than the next.
She smells like hot dog water, and probably sprained her neck giving blumpkins down at the local bowling alley.
Look, I'm not saying that all heterosexual sex is rape. I'm saying all heterosexual sex is gross, and that deep down, every woman knows this.
All that girl's after is a whole lot of bikini burger.
Hey, girl, can I just ask you, what's up with your outfit?
God knows what they're talking about, basic bitches.
What fresh hell is this?
I need you to stay popular, 'cause if you want to stay at the top of the list of the pieces of ass I'm getting, there's criteria. And the criteria is you got to be popular.
Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, because I'm getting really pissed off.
Stop fake crying.
Anyone you dated would be popular. I mean, they would be popular because they're dating you.
My ego, it's super strong, ok, but it's not strong enough that I can just go around dating garbage people.
Like, yes, I could find a random girl who wasn't popular, and, yes, if I started dating her she would then become popular.
But you said you loved me.
I do sort of love you.
I would love you a lot more if other people loved you, too.
Okay, I need you to leave because you're bumming me out
We're just trying to have a nice day hitting golf balls at hippies.
Pretty girls, like you and me.
That's why I'm gonna burn your face off.
Ugh! You burned the milk!
Next time, I get you fired, or worse.
Actually, I just want a regular coffee. Those white girl pumpkin spice lattes annoy me.
I like to think of myself, uh, as an investigative reporter.
I had to get a restraining order.
I tend to get a bit passionate about things.
Look, you intentionally led me on.
You kept acting like you liked me just so you could humiliate me.
Enter, ye who dare.
I love a creepy collage.
It's about kicking the living crap out of someone when they disrespect you.
I was just in your room, where I noticed you have a sizeable shrine with evil burning candles, photos of me with my face scratched out and pairs of my stolen panties.
How about I just drown you in it?
Well, of course she's dead! You just burned her face off!
You don't die from getting your face burned off.
There's a dead woman in your kitchen.
I'm going to the authorities.
That's not how I saw it. And my witnesses agree.
You're an awful person.
Who wants cocktails?
How did my life turn into this?
Have you seen the way girls dress on this campus?
I'm sitting in the same office I used to throw bricks into.
You're awful in bed. Are you aware?
I'm gonna take a pair of your panties.
I'm gonna barf on your face unless you get out of here.
Try to figure out who gave you such disgusting mommy issues.
You loaded a dead body into a freezer.
What are you proposing?
I want to help you with your exposé, secretly feed you info.
You need eyes on the inside.
I don't know what to do with the body.
Are you saying dead bodies don't turn you on?
You are so lame, you know that?
God, I love all that death stuff.
Show me the body.
Show me the dead body.
This blood oath will ensure solidarity among us. We are all related now.
I just Googled "blood oath" and this is what came up.
What does this oath even mean?
I just need you all to not say anything about what happened, and I figured a blood oath was cheaper than buying you all presents.
Wait, what about STDs?
Idiot, you don't get STDs from blood oaths.
You get STDs from dirty toilet seats and drinking the water in Mexico.
Um, "STD" stands for "sexually transmitted disease," which means that it's transmitted sexually.
When were you in Mexico?
You know what, forget the blood oath.
I can't stay silent!
I'm calling my mom, and I'm going home.
Okay, Pissy Spacek, you and I have a few differences we need to iron out.
I want you to be one of my minions.
It's the gateway to the top of the heap.
You put on a good front, but you're miserable.
Don't you think any of that has anything to do with the fact that you've created an atmosphere based solely on negativity and raw ambition?
Can we talk for real for a second, please?
I mean, you're so confident without being mean. What antidepressants are you on?
Don't you see that all that's happened isn't a crisis? It's an opportunity.
Yeah, no, I tried. See, I really tried. But all of this flowery, peace-on-Earth crap, it makes me want to puke.
You haven't even seen half of what I'm capable of!
Totally spit in your coffee, bitch.
I don't mean to be a contrarian, but I'm enjoying this.
Is that killer noises or am I hallucinating?
I'm gonna ask one more time, will you speak up?
What can you tell us about the murder?
There's an exodus right now.
The risks are real, but we need to close ranks.
I don't feel comfortable with a man protecting me. It's representative of the patriarchal, post-colonial culture that encourages violence against women.
We buy a pig and feed it the body. Pigs will eat anything.
Don't go skating on those poop lagoons, because if you fall in, you'll drown in the poop and come springtime, there'll be nothing left of your body.
Here's what you should do. Pulverize her teeth, burn off her fingerprints, and disfigure her face. Once her body is unrecognizable, we can create an incision on her inner thigh and drain out all of her bodily fluids. That'll give us more time to deconstruct the body.
Truly grinding down a body takes a lot of work. You need a really good food processor, and you run the risk of fouling the plumbing, which is why you should only do it if you know how to clear out meat and bones from a drain pipe.
I'm willing to help in any way possible.
You're obviously a psychopath and those ideas are insane!
Why are you trying to terrify us?
Can I call you Mom?
I feel so loved and protected by all of you.
Actually, it's a new pop culture trend where young women desperately in need of role models call other girls they look up to Mom.
I thought you'd be cool with it.
I mean, I did just give you several ways to dispose of a body.
Okay, fine. Just stop talking.
You are so friggin' creepy!
Someone just mowed off a deaf girl's head in our backyard.
I mean, as you can see, I'm not licensed to carry a sidearm.
Wait, so you don't have a gun?
I have pepper spray. And I have a walkie talkie that I can use to call the police, who do have guns.
What good are you?
Get the hell out of there. Run away, real fast.
Now, I would give you my number, but my cell phone is off right now.
If you want the place clean, maybe you shouldn't have burned the maid's face off.
Don't you wonder what's in there?
People have been whispering about that house for years, that it's haunted, that something really bad happened. I mean, there's no way there isn't some real-life story behind it, right?
I'm gonna have to break in.
I mean, I don't think anyone's gonna get killed in the 30 minutes we make out, right?
Can you stop talking?
You're kind of ruining whatever was good about it.
Please try to understand the situation I'm in.
I don't give a rat's ass about your job.
You know, I find good parenting incredibly attractive.
You're a snoopy little bugger.
Whose bloody clothes are those?
Supposedly, it was a super fun party.
We're all gonna pay for this.
I think it's all crap. Just a myth.
What happened to the baby?
Sometimes I picture myself like Derek Jeter, you know?
I'm gonna choke you out.
There's a serial killer on the loose.
Please don't say you want to choke me.
I'd love having sex with your corpse.
I'm sorry. This isn't working for me.
Well, I sort of am your boyfriend, and I'm protecting you by having sex with you.
No! I don't need a man to protect me.
How could I have wasted this much time?
Is my self-esteem really that low?
I'm sorry. I think we need to take a break.
I need you to leave right now!
You know, it would really help me feel better if I could just crawl into bed with you for a few minutes.
Are you gonna touch my wiener, or you gonna leave my wiener alone?
I'll leave your wiener alone.
Where are your hands?
He has a huge boner!
Why don't you go in there and ogle his big old boner?
Okay, uh, first of all, I'm not gonna go ogle his big old boner, because I'm not gay.
Look, I'm sorry everybody wants to have sex with me. Okay? I can't help that.
I'm hot. Everybody wants to get with this. Women, men, animals in the zoo, plants, probably.
You're gonna have to go right now, 'cause I am breaking up with you.
Excuse me, I broke up with you!
I regretted what I said, and I just wanted to come here and tell you that I am so sorry.
Well, I accept your apology. And now I'm breaking up with you.
Do you know why I'm breaking up with you?
You can't deal with how hot I am.
Sorry, I just broke up with you.
Can you please put some clothes on?
Um, they said, uh, I shouldn't be alone, you know, in case I fall asleep and die.
Can I just get you a robe or something though?
So you're saying I'm the killer?
Okay, this isn't about me thinking you're boyfriend material.
God, I was so gonna go to third base with you tonight, too.
What if we stapled their earlobes?
Private like the parts on a man you like putting in your mouth?
I want to publicly come out as gay on my own.
I mean, you guys have to accept everybody, right?
I actually think that's illegal.
I will come after you, do you understand that? I will destroy you.
I trust you'll consider my offer.
Name one bad thing that ever happened at a Best Buy parking lot.
You're just, like, super attractive.
Um, well, I was trying to be inconspicuous.
It's better than losing your life.
I have a thing for playlists.
Someone's got a poo belly.
Sweet Yeezus, I don't even know where to begin with you.
Bitch, I'm about to smack you so hard, your tampon's gonna pop out.
I heard screaming.
So you think the serial killer is still up there?
Upstairs to get the killer before he gets away!
You just said that you think the killer is up there, and that's where you want to go?
This is freakin' terrifying!
The killer is in the house! You hear me?
I need my damn inhaler.
What, am I supposed to be scared?
Don't even come out. We plan on getting drunk, and I don't want your bad attitude ruining it.
We're headed down to White Stallion to pick up some sluts, baby!
Yes, okay, I burned her slightly, but stop saying that I killed her.
That was a tragic accident.
I am a kind and devoted and loving friend to all.
I'm not some crazed psychopath.
Maybe you're the killer.
I will not be put on trial.
The truth is we don't know who the killer is, and, yes, I suppose it could be someone in this room.
You want to go first?
I banged, like, 50 chicks.
What took you so long?
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billhaderlovebot · 4 years
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willy mclean hcs
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ah yes. it is time for another hannah and molly headcanon extravaganza. we've been thirsty for this hoe all damn week. @gazebros
you think you know willy the first time you meet him properly.
in fact, you do know him.
you've seen him around, verbally abusing pool-goers and smoking pot on his breaks.
you've never crossed paths other than the one time you asked him where the toilets were and he blew smoke in your face.
but the first time you meet him properly it's kinda an accident, in that you weren't looking for company.
you'd just broken up with your extremely long term boyfriend that week.
u have a child together.
it wasn't a toxic relationship and it didn't end on bad terms, and you loved each other very very much, but you both agreed that you'd grown apart and you'd be better as two seperate people.
plus, you needed to keep it cool between the two of you for the sake of your son.
nonetheless, it was a bummer.
you were the only one left at the pool, and it had long since closed. you'd been sat on the side, watching the ripples and ignoring how cold and dark it was getting. the only source of light came from the LED's on the bottom of the pool.
and willy came out of the weird room thingy he sits in while people are swimming.
"we're closed, man."
probably the biggest joint you've seen since college in his hand.
"yeah. sorry. lemme get in on that, though."
you reach up to take the joint from him and he shrugs and hands it to you.
"you good?"
"just broke up with this guy, um, we've been together since... i don't know, fuckin, forever. im sad, i guess. he's staying with his mom."
"oh, worm. i can get my bong."
and you don't know why you find yourself telling this random guy everything.
but you talk and smoke for hours.
willy is like a breath of fresh air.
you can't remember the last time you'd laughed until your ribs hurt.
and you've told each other like
everything there is to know about everything
and in this moment you actually feel like nobody else knows you better in the entire world
even though you've only been talking for like four hours.
by the end of the night you're basically sat in his lap.
you're so close that your lips almost touch when you light another joint and pass it between you.
and you hear his breath hitch
and his eyes are dark.
"your ex didn't give you syphilis or anything, did he?"
"no. why?"
and then suddenly his lips are on yours and he's holding your face in his hands.
and all you can feel is him
and its Perfect.
and he's warm and soft and you fist your hands into the front of his stupid poncho
and you have to go back to your apartment to fuck because he doesn't have one oops.
and you get there and you apologise for the mess because you've not been in a good place lately.
"dude i live in a fucking pool don't even worry."
thus begins Friends With Benefits.
the best sex you've literally Ever had in your life along with the best weed and the best 4am talks and a guy who talks to you like you're a normal fucking person for Once.
Willy McLean E*ts P*ssy.
you pull his hair sometimes
nothing extreme jus a light tug yknow
but it drives him Insane
he Loves It.
he doesn't dirty talk a lot but he's very vocal. like he's not one of those guys where it feels like you're fucking an ice sculpture. he actually like makes noise.
and tells you what he wants.
so it's just u guys hanging out and fucking for like a long time. and it's good. it's great.
no commitment or anything it's pretty chill.
you go off the radar a few times a week to spend time with your son, who's currently living with his father until you get your life in order.
one night, after sex (it was during the shining bc that movie is Long so y'all jus ignored it n Got On With Things) willy is watching you sleep.
he's watching you exist.
he just watches you for the longest time.
his heart melts when you subconsciously shuffle closer to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.
and he realises that the feelings he has for you run deeper than he thought they did.
he realises that he might maybe a little bit love you.
maybe.
you're so strong and you would do anything to protect your kid and you're not afraid of looking stupid and you make him laugh like nobody has ever made him laugh.
also the sex? 😔👌
he thinks you're probably the most wonderful human being in the whole world.
you didn't plan on introducing willy to your son.
because you didn't think it would ever be anything serious and therefore not have an impact on his life.
but it had to happen at some point.
and one day he gets in your car and there's this lil curly haired toddler in the back in this lil car seat.
"uhh. we have to go sign him up for preschool."
you'd forgotten it was almost august.
willy is really nervous because he's sure he smells of pot and he doesn't really know what to do around kids.
but elias is surprisingly quiet and he giggles along to whatever dumb shit you and willy are talking about in the front seat even though he has no idea what you're saying.
willy falls even harder for you when he watches you ruffle elias' hair and kiss his head.
and elias really likes willy's poncho.
and when you get to the school and the secretary starts gushing about what a cute couple you and willy are
willy Loses His Mind
and he's about say something
but you're like "thankyou so much!🥰" and take his hand and the paperwork she gives you and drag him into the waiting room.
"wh-"
"we are a cute couple."
he pretends not to notice when you don't let go of his hand for the rest of the day.
because you fuck and have been fucking for a while but this is Soft.
and you pretend not to lose your shit when willy picks up elias and you look at them both together, giggling like idiots and realise that they're all you need.
a couple months later, when the pool closes for the winter months, you realise you haven't seen him in a couple days.
which is worrying, since he lives at the pool um-
and so you go there
n he's just
jus sittin.
"hey, babe."
"hey, where have you been?"
"just around. come sit."
and for a minute it's normal. you're talking and laughing so hard that your sides split and kissing (ft inappropriate touching)
and it gets a lil cold and he puts his obnoxious knitted poncho over you.
and he looks at you for a bit.
and you barely hear it when he whispers
"i think im in love with you."
and oh
oh fuck.
of course.
and you love him the fuck BACK
but he takes your stunned silence as rejection, mumbles some garbled apology and stands up to leave.
you run right after him, though.
it's something straight out of a romance movie, he thinks, when you spin him around by his arm and pull him down to your lips by his collar.
"i love you too. so fucking much, will."
that night you invite him to stay over.
"isn't elias staying with you right now?"
"yeah. he misses you. he keeps asking about the poncho man idk"
when he wakes up the next day after watching two and a half hours of paw patrol with your son (he kept him entertained, seeing how exhausted you were, and allowed you to nap.) you're not there.
he heads into the kitchen where you've sat elias down with a bowl of cereal and you're dancing around to whatever's playing on the radio.
and he sees a box of his stuff next to the couch. everything he owns. you must've gotten it from the pool while he was asleep.
"what's going on, baby?"
"shit, yeah, um, you're moving in."
his heart explodes
and he's trying so hard not to cry
at the concept of having a home
and with you, nonetheless.
he's sure he's never been so in love.
but he cries anyway, when your back is turned, when he thinks you don't know.
he Loves You.
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